Shining Strong
by IcyPanther
Summary: Companion piece to Burning Bright \ Shiro signed up for the Big Brother program hoping to make a small difference in some troubled kid's life. But when he's partnered with a young teen named Keith he realizes he isn't just going to just make a difference in Keith's life; Keith is going to end up changing his too in ways he never could have imagined.


**Notes:** Companion piece to _Burning Bright._ Please read that one first!  
 **Warnings:** Mentions of child abuse, nothing graphic. Rated "T" to be safe.

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 **Shining Strong**

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"So how did it go?"

Shiro gave himself a pat on the back for managing to choke back the shriek of panic at the voice coming from inside his darkened room and instead blandly responded, "I thought we talked about the whole breaking into my room thing."

"You talked, I listened, and here we are," Matt fired back, lounging on Shiro's bed as though he owned the place. "And seriously, your obaasan's birthday again Shiro? It's like you're inviting me in."

Shiro just rolled his eyes and dropped into his desk chair since his bed was taken. He really didn't mind his best friend constantly hacking the passcode into his room, but it was the principle of the thing. He couldn't blame him either; as a senior student and the prodigy of the Garrison Shiro had his own room with all the furnishings while Matt… Matt was cramped into a small room with a fellow programmer who insisted on constantly rearranging the furniture and shoes into configurations and would fall into a panic if it was disturbed. Thus, Matt did not spend much time in his room, especially as last Shiro had heard the roommate had moved a dresser onto Matt's bed.

"Don't sidetrack me," Matt said, sitting up and leaning forward eagerly. "How was the little ruffian? As terrible and violent as his file said?"

"No," Shiro said, his false annoyance turning into a soft, thoughtful smile. "He was actually… actually really sweet."

"Are we talking about the same kid?" Matt raised an eyebrow. He nabbed the file off of Shiro's nightstand and waved it. "This kid?" He flipped open the folder and cleared his throat. "Keith Kogane. Fourteen years old. History of violence involving multiple fights at schools all across Arizona, fighting with foster siblings and foster parents, a redacted juvie record that thanks to yours truly we know involves some high speed motor vehicle theft and chases, kicked out of multiple foster families for behavior and discipline issues." He waved it again. " _This_ Keith?"

"Yes, that one," Shiro said, swiping the folder. He glanced down at it, lighting upon the picture included that showed a sullen looking pale, dark haired boy with a nearly healed black eye glaring off to the side of the camera.

Shiro honestly hadn't known what he had been expecting upon meeting his assigned younger brother. He'd gotten the file from the Big Brother agency and included in it had been a brief synopsis on Keith along with contact information for the local service agency that had recommended Keith to the program asking that Shiro please call before the program started.

Shiro had placed a quick call to Aimee, who according to the note was Keith's most recent social worker, and she had been polite sounding if worried. She had explained that it was very important that Keith do well in this program as he was in serious trouble of flunking out of another foster family and if that happened he would be sent back to the group home, which according to notes from previous case workers Keith had hated. She hoped that if nothing else the program could give her some insight into her newest case and wanted Shiro to be her eyes and ears and report back to her weekly if he could.

Aimee admitted to Shiro she had just started with the agency and was already becoming rather overwhelmed, but Keith had been her first assignment and she did want to see him do well in the program. _"Between you and me," she had said over the phone, "he doesn't seem like a bad kid. I think he just needs a real chance."_

Shiro had originally signed up for the Big Brother Big Sister program as it was highly recommended for seniors looking to make officer status to give them some first-hand experience at working with kids, but besides that he thought it would be a great way to give back to the community and maybe help out a troubled kid that could use a little kindness.

But Aimee's words had made this go from a weekly volunteer program to something much more. This kid was looking, needing, for some guidance in life and Shiro was determined to do his best to help him. He'd enlisted Matt's help for some (illegal, but he wanted a full picture and Matt assured him he wouldn't get caught) more background research.

It revealed a very smart kid who tested extremely high on standardized tests, but otherwise had poor scores in school. It showed a history of detentions - always for fighting or failure to do homework - and comments from teachers about Keith being "withdrawn" and "unnaturally quiet" but also "quick to anger" and "prefers to be alone."

His police record had revealed that twice in the last two years Keith had stolen and/or hot-wired a motorbike and taken off. Both victims had pressed charges - one had been the foster family at the time, Shiro had frowned - and Keith had had to serve a good chunk of time doing community service and had been sent back to his agency's group home in Flagstaff for several months.

The kid had bounced around from foster home to foster home so many times that they still couldn't quite track the full timeline, but Matt and Shiro had deduced that his longest stay had been a mere four months with a family in the Garrison City area a year ago before violence and discipline issues were cited as major concerns and the agency had collected him again.

This Keith seemed to be as unwanted as a bag of garbage, Shiro had thought darkly, and tossed out just as easily as one. He'd been in the system since he was seven - despite Matt's best efforts he could only find 'family death' listed with no other information - and Shiro highly doubted a seven-year-old could be so violent that his first family gave him back after… two weeks, Kami-sama.

It made Shiro want to see him succeed. He always rooted for the underdog and Keith was most certainly one. It sounded like no one had ever given the kid a chance, had really tried to connect with him or give him a home. Well, that was going to change. Shiro was going to get to the heart of the matter and find out if Keith really was as terrible and violent as the reports indicated or if he was must a misunderstood kid that no one had ever tried to get to know.

And, he'd found to both his joy and horror, it was most certainly the latter. Upon arriving to the community center for the program, he found that Keith had sat himself away from the rest of the kids and the teacher's notes of 'prefers to be alone' had echoed in Shiro's mind as he approached.

Keith hadn't looked confrontational, face tucked against his pulled up knees and hands encircling himself as though to make him as small as possible. And, at fourteen years old, he was already pretty small Shiro had thought. He'd called out a greeting and had had to bite back the smirk as the kid looked up and his eyes - a stunning shade of purple that the photo had not done justice - had widened as he took in Shiro's haircut. Yes, Shiro knew it was against regulation but the Garrison had stopped arguing with him about it when he'd bested their simulator record without even breaking a sweat. Shiro had resisted his own urge to stare at the dark bruise that took up most of the boy's left cheekbone. What had caused _that?_ Another fight at school?

Keith had seemed almost painfully shy, shoulders hunched as though expecting Shiro to… Shiro wasn't sure, but he hadn't liked that apprehension and had tried to set the boy at ease as best he could, asking permission to join him and then leading the conversation with a small ice breaker.

Shiro considered himself a pretty observant person and the quiet, short answers and the way Keith held himself, checked himself, made him cringe inside. It was like the boy was expecting to be yelled at or reprimanded even as Shiro managed to pull a smile from him with his laundry tale (which was not even exaggerated).

He'd seen the way Keith had responded when Shiro had remarked that they were here voluntarily - and had no one ever done something for this kid for the sheer sake of being kind? - and then the way his eyes had lit up and then just as quickly shuttered as he spoke about what sounded like a beloved stuffed animal.

Lost, right, Shiro had resisted the urge to snort. He couldn't claim to know anything really about Keith, but he doubted that anyone in the foster system had much to call their own. Stolen or destroyed were more likely and the fact that Keith couldn't - wouldn't - actually tell him the truth made something in his stomach clench uncomfortably.

That lie had told him so much about Keith in an instant. It said that Keith didn't expect anyone to listen or to care. That Keith knew he was on his own. That Keith would hide his own hurts and lick his wounds and not complain because nothing changed.

And Shiro resolved he was going to fix this.

When he'd pulled out the zoo tickets - a favorite activity for him growing up that he hoped Keith would enjoy too - and seen Keith's eyes light up he had felt a grin pull up his face, that he'd had to force not to fade when Keith had abruptly cut himself off again, looking scared that he'd interrupted.

Shiro had pushed past it, ignoring it as he wasn't sure how yet to handle it, and suggested his motorcycle, which Matt had insisted he bring because based on Keith's record he _really_ liked bikes. And once more those eyes had lit up with unfiltered delight and Shiro knew he'd made the right call.

Upon getting to the bike Keith had been somewhat hesitant to actually grab a hold of Shiro for the ride and when he finally did it was with such a delicate touch that Shiro honestly wondered how those small hands were responsible for so much fighting.

The grip had, fortunately, tightened when he got Vanessa really going, and Keith had slowly relaxed the faster they went to where Shiro thought he might have actually enjoyed the ride. He made a mental note to see how many times he could incorporate some off-campus trips.

The zoo had been just as fun as Shiro remembered and he kept the conversation very light and focused on the zoo activities. Little by little Keith had loosened up, the fear gone from his eyes and a smile or at least contentment brightening his face.

Shiro had watched Keith at the petting zoo, the way he had so gingerly reached out to pet a baby goat as though he was afraid he might hurt it. When the little guy had butted its head right up into Keith's face and practically nuzzled it, Keith had laughed and thrown his arms about its little body and cuddled it.

 _This_ was the boy who was accused of constantly fighting at school? This smiling, happy boy who ended up surrounded by another goat, a rabbit and chicken and was trying to equally give them all pets and attention?

No, Shiro had frowned. Something was wrong here and he didn't think it was Keith.

He resolved to get to the bottom of what was happening before the Big Brother program finished.

After the petting zoo they'd gone to the pachyderm house and Shiro had been delighted to find Keith's favorite animal - the hippo - and a baby one at that. He'd thought Keith would be just as excited too, but when he'd looked up from reading the birth announcement Keith had been close to tears and gripping the railing like it was the only thing keeping him up.

Shiro had ushered them both outside and let Keith recollect himself. He'd offered to talk but Keith had shaken his head, avoiding Shiro's eyes, and Shiro had let it go, knowing that sometimes patience yielded the best results. Keith would talk when he was ready.

In the meantime though, Shiro felt guilt building. He'd hurt Keith, even if he didn't entirely understand why, and he'd tried to apologize for the distress. Keith had seemed so surprised at the apology and Shiro's stomach had done that weird clenching thing again that a simple apology created such a reaction.

It had been the right call though as Keith had choked out a moment later that the hippos had reminded him of his dad and Shiro had garnered that the two had had a close relationship. He was no doubt the 'death' the file had spoken of.

When Shiro had gently put a hand on Keith's shoulder his own eyes had stung as Keith had leaned ever so slightly into the touch, crying again, but refusing to fully relax. It was like he couldn't. Like he was afraid to.

So when Keith had tried to apologize for crying a little later Shiro had nipped that right in the bud. His grandparents - parents, really - had always told him to never apologize for how he felt because those feelings were what made him a person. He'd gone a little further, trying to really get Keith to understand that he, Shiro, would listen to whatever Keith wanted to talk about. He was here for him. Just him.

The rest of the zoo trip had been lighter and Shiro had brought them back to the community center without incident, grinning when upon mounting the bike to return Keith had only hesitated for a moment before holding tight to his jacket. Small steps.

He hadn't seen Keith off, having to check in with the coordinators, and the boy was gone by the time he made it out front. But Shiro knew he'd be there next week and he hoped he could think of a good activity for them to do then.

He'd driven back to the Garrison after that, feeling both heavy and light at the same time. And now here he was, being bombarded by Matt for details.

"Short version," Shiro said, closing the file, "He seems like a good kid. A little quiet, but he's smart, Matt. And kind. You should have seen him at the petting zoo."

"Photos?" Matt asked, holding out his hand expectantly.

Shiro surrendered his phone and Matt scrolled through it, grin tugging at his face and eyes lighting up behind his glasses. "Well what have we got here," he murmured, staring at the snap Shiro had gotten of the baby goat licking Keith's nose. He raised his eyes to Shiro. "This does not look like a violent kid, Shiro."

"Something's not adding up, that's for sure," Shiro said, taking his phone back and only hesitating a second before he made that photo his lockscreen.

"Katie's more violent than that," Matt grinned although it didn't entirely meet his eyes, "and she's only gotten one suspension for it."

"Isn't that because she shoved a kid off the jungle gym and broke his arm?" Shiro asked.

"Yeah, teaching that little asshole the laws of gravity," Matt smiled, tipping his head back. "Sixty pounds of asshole drops just as quick as sixty pounds of feathers. What a smart girl she is."

"Your parents are going to have their hands full," Shiro snorted.

"Tell me about it. Only ten and taking on kids double her size since the third grade. I'm so proud."

They lapsed into a moment of quiet before Matt spoke again. "So what are you going to do?"

"Do?" Shiro repeated.

"About Keith?"

"I'm not sure," Shiro said. "I've only just met him, Matt. It could all be an act but…" he shook his head. "I don't think so."

"You're a good judge of character, Shiro," Matt said and the joking tone was completely gone. "If you think he's a good kid then he's a good kid. So what is this," he pointed at the closed case file, "all about?"

"I'm going to find out," Shiro said, eyes narrowed in determination. "And first step…" he picked up his phone and punched in Aimee's office number, "is finding out what they aren't telling me."

xxx

Unfortunately, Shiro's investigation hit a bit of a brick wall. Aimee had been unable to give him any additional information than what had been reported in the case file as all identities of foster families were kept private. She did drop that they did have physical proof of injuries that Keith had reportedly been the cause of; ranging from broken bones to bruises to one severe incident of a kid at the group home losing an eye to a broken bottle Keith had reportedly attacked him with, but she had nothing in her file noting any injuries Keith may have suffered in any mutual fights and her attempts to locate them had turned up nothing.

She had sounded sad then and Shiro had unfortunately understood. Kids like Keith were a dime a dozen in the system and they were shuffled about from one overworked caseworker to the next. Things fell through the cracks, assumptions were made based on prior incidents and kids were labeled forevermore. Keith was one such casualty of the broken system; he'd been stamped as a violent offender and as such Aimee had disclosed that follow ups for injury reports had been non-existent.

All that did was make Shiro want to dig more. He wanted to find out _why_ Keith had been labeled that way, why he couldn't seem to find a good foster family to live with. Surely they couldn't be all terrible. Shiro's old neighbors had fostered a few kids and they had been kind. Where were those families?

Saturday rolled around quickly and Shiro found himself eagerly making for the community center for 0800 hours that not even the downpouring of sudden rain could dampen.

Keith had already been inside, shivering in a damp jacket while one of the center's volunteers was trying to press a towel upon him.

"Hey, Keith," Shiro greeted, shaking droplets from his own hair and gratefully accepting a towel of his own. "Get caught in the rain? It was not a good day to ride the bike, that's for sure."

"Something like that," Keith mumbled, not yet looking up to meet Shiro's eyes that sent alarm bells ringing in Shiro's head.

"Well, let's get you out of that jacket," Shiro said, shrugging off his own wet leather and hanging it on the hook. "You'll get sick like that."

"I'm okay," Keith replied and if anything his grip on his jacket sleeves tightened.

He was scared, Shiro realized. Scared of what though?

"Hey," Shiro dropped to one knee so he wasn't looming over the much smaller figure. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Keith said quickly. "Nothing's wrong. I just… I just don't want the jacket to get stolen."

A lie mixed with truth. Shiro kept his voice light. "We'll bring it with us then. Come on buddy, I don't want you to catch a cold."

A moment later Keith gave a small nod and pulled the sopping wet jacket free - and why was it so wet? Shiro wondered, when the door was just a few feet from the curb? - and draped it over his right arm.

He did it fast but not fast enough. Shiro saw a set of bruises littering the pale skin and - were those fingerprints?

"Your arm okay?" he asked.

Keith winced. "Got into a fight," he mumbled. "At school. It's fine."

Shiro frowned but didn't push. Not yet.

"Do you need some ice?" he asked instead.

"No, it's fine," Keith said. "Really." He finally looked up then and met Shiro's eyes, a glimmer that the cadet couldn't quite place shining in them. "What… what are we doing today?"

"Well, I had been thinking of going to one of the local parks for a picnic and hike, but, well," Shiro gestured at the front doors where the storm was still visible, "that's out. So maybe we could see if anyone else was up for playing some board games. You have a favorite?"

"My dad and I…" Keith started but then stopped and Shiro gave him an encouraging nod. "We used to play go fish all the time, but... " He looked away. "That's a kid's game."

"Hey, I love go fish," Shiro protested and those intense eyes looked back at him, seeking a joke and finding none offered a tentative smile. "Come on, let's go find a deck, play a round, and then see if we can get anyone to join us. It'll be fun!"

They ended up sprawling out on the carpeted floor in one of the community center's classrooms, a deck of cards between them and cups of hot chocolate on hand. Keith had let the jacket fall away and Shiro's suspicions were confirmed; those were fingerprints. And, unless Keith was fighting with the biggest kid he'd ever met those were the hands of an adult.

Shiro chose to focus just on the game to let Keith get settled in and return that comfortable feeling from last time. And after Shiro told him to go fish after Keith's request for threes the boy spoke.

"So… you're a fighter pilot?"

Shiro grinned. The Galaxy Garrison was a pretty amazing place with beyond amazing people, and yet it was the fighter pilot program that everyone was always in awe of. Given Keith's apparent love of speed Shiro couldn't say he was surprised, nor had he missed the way Keith's eyes had lit up when Shiro had initially identified his class last week.

"Yup," Shiro said. "Got any sixes?"

Keith forked over two.

Shiro said nothing else. If Keith wanted to have a conversation he was going to have to actually ask questions. Shiro hoped it would pry him a bit more from his shell.

"What… what do you like most about it?" Keith hedged after a moment and Shiro near beamed, even when he had to hand over all of his twos a second later.

"The flying," Shiro said easily. "That feeling of freedom you get when it's just you and the ship and the skies rushing past you… it's exhilarating. And we've got some _really_ fast ships at the Garrison."

Keith was looking at him near slack-jawed and Shiro had an inkling why. He pressed on it, asking, "You want to be a pilot too?"

" _Yes,"_ Keith breathed, eyes dancing. But then he shook his head. "I can't."

"Why not?"

Keith averted his eyes. "I'm a foster kid," he mumbled, pink highlighting his cheeks.

"So?" Shiro countered. "What of it?"

"I can't," Keith repeated. "You… you need to be smart. And good. And… and have money to get into the Galaxy Garrison. And I… I'm not any of that."

"Hey," Shiro said, firmer than he intended but it had the desired effect as Keith met his eyes. "You can be _anything_ you to want to, Keith. Anything you put your mind to you can do. You want to be a fighter pilot? Then go for it."

"You… you really think so?" and there was such a hope in the hesitant words that Shiro's heart darn near melted.

"Of course I do. I believe you can do anything, Keith." Keith blushed a soft pink and looked down at his hand of cards.

"In fact…" Shiro had a sudden, reckless idea coming to him. He grinned in a way that Matt would have been proud of. "Next week. I'll have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

"You're going to love it," Shiro assured. "Trust me."

And Keith looked at him then, really looked at him, and Shiro saw nothing but trust shining at him in the hopeful smile and bright eyes. "I trust you," Keith said, the words barely a whisper but ringing so clear that Shiro's breath was nearly knocked away and all he could do was return Keith's smile with his own.

And in that moment Shiro knew that rather than just changing Keith's life for the better, Keith was going to end up changing his too.

xxx

"You… you're letting me drive Vanessa?" Keith's voice had risen nearly a whole octave and his grin was so wide Shiro was afraid his face might split. "Are… are you serious?"

"Surprise," Shiro grinned back. "You're the one who told me you wanted to be a pilot, right? All pilots start off on the ground. Let's consider this your first lesson."

Keith almost looked like he was going to faint from excitement.

"A few basics first," Shiro said. He walked Keith around the bike, pointing out the throttle, the pedals (which he raised to account for Keith's small stature), how the system worked, well aware that the boy was hanging on every word.

"Safety is still number one," Shiro said. "Put the helmet on for me please." Keith slammed it over his head. "I'll be riding with you," Shiro continued. "And nice and slow to start, all right? Bring her up to forty."

"Forty," Keith repeated and Shiro would have to have been blind to miss the mischievousness in that word. Personally he was hoping Keith might try and push the rules a bit, especially if he was as good as it sounded like the police record had made him out to be. Or, well, as good as anyone could be who led the officers on a two hour chase around the crowded streets of Sedona.

Besides, forty was like turtle speed on a bike like Vanessa. And they had the whole road wide open to them as this part was only used by Galaxy Garrison personnel.

"Ready?" Shiro asked, pulling his own helmet on.

"Ready," Keith nearly vibrated onto the bike, his hands going to cover the handles almost reverently.

Shiro chuckled and pulled himself on behind Keith, wrapping his arms firmly about the way too small waist. He felt the boy stiffen at the contact, but mostly relaxed a moment later as he turned the ignition.

They started forward with a gentle roar of the engine and Shiro remained quiet, watching over Keith's shoulder as the boy flipped a few of the gears and pulled Vanessa up to a cruising forty within a few seconds.

They completed a few passes on the road and Shiro was pretty impressed at how well the boy was handling a motorcycle after just a few minutes of instruction. He could feel though when Keith had had enough of the slow speed and Shiro felt a grin tug at his face. Time to see what the kid could do.

Keith did not disappoint. Seconds later they were flying at nearly ninety across the desert and Shiro had whooped with exhilaration at the speed and the way Keith flawlessly navigated the bike. That only seemed to encourage Keith to go faster and they shot up to over one hundred miles an hour and Shiro clutched Keith even tighter, shouting out his joy.

The kid was amazing. Maybe even better than himself, if Shiro wanted to be completely honest. He took to the bike as easily as a fish to water and the ease with which they were flying over the uneven desert and dodging effortlessly around cacti was nothing short of breathtaking.

He would be the best pilot the Garrison had ever seen. Shiro felt it.

When Keith finally brought the motorcycle to a halt about ten minutes later, in the exact spot they'd left from, Shiro noted dazedly, completely windswept, Keith had looked somewhat fearful, as though expecting to be yelled at but at the same time defiant and proud.

Shiro pulled his helmet off with a pop, shaking out his sweat-soaked hair and Keith did the same.

"Keith," he gasped, "That… that was incredible," and the fear vanished in an instant to be replaced with a faint hope.

"Really?"

"Really!" He ruffled the long black locks and laughed long and hard when Keith gave him an affronted look that softened immediately into pleasure and contentment and he almost leaned into the touch before abruptly pulling back. Shiro didn't call him on it, choosing to focus instead on the ride. "That was amazing! I've never seen anything like it. Where did you learn how to drive?"

Keith gave a small shrug. "I… I didn't? I mean, I've driven a few times before, but… I just did it."

"You've never had a lesson?" Shiro asked. He had logically known that, given what he'd learned of Keith's background. But that level of skill? That instinct? _Someone_ had to have taught him.

Keith shook his head. "Just… just what you showed me."

"Kami-sama," Shiro breathed. "Keith, you're… you're _amazing._ "

The boy was definitely blushing now. "I'm nothing special," he mumbled. Shiro's face fell a bit as he realized that Keith had no idea how to take a compliment. He was going to have to change that.

"That was better driving than some of our junior pilots," Shiro told him. "Seriously, Keith, you have such a future ahead of you. You're going to do great things, I just know it." His tone softened. "You really are something special, Keith. Don't ever let anyone tell you differently."

Keith's eyes had a distinct sheen to them now and Shiro spared him from having to come up with a response. "Come on, let's go get lunch," he said, clapping a hand on Keith's upper back. The boy winced though at the pat.

"Your back okay?" Shiro asked, the joy from just minutes ago twisting into that uncomfortable clench from when he'd seen the fingerprints last week.

"Yeah, you just squeezed really hard," Keith said, voice tight.

"Guess I don't know my own strength," Shiro tried to smile even though he felt sick. "Sorry, buddy. Come on, let's eat our picnic."

Shiro frowned though as Keith set to pulling out the blanket from the basket the center had provided.

Because he had been holding Keith around his waist, which was nowhere near his upper back.

The sick feeling grew.

xxx

Shiro watched from the front door of the center as an older car pulled up at the curb of the community center. Week five had just wrapped up and this Saturday the entire program had gone out to one of the local parks for a series of games and events from bean bag tosses to potato sack races to a game of kickball.

Shiro had never seen Keith laugh so much, struggling with another fourteen year old to run the potato sack race and falling down repeatedly as they could not seem to coordinate themselves at all. The kids had smiled and joked freely and Shiro and the other Garrison students had, when not participating in some of the games, had looked on fondly at how changed this group of troubled children had become.

He'd been right, Shiro had thought as Keith gently tossed a water balloon back and forth with one of the younger kids in the program. They just needed a little bit of kindness, for someone to tell them they mattered.

But Keith needed more than that. He needed a real family, a real chance.

And if Shiro's gut was proven right he was damn well going to make it happen.

He hadn't yet seen Keith's foster family. The boy spoke very, very little about them and when he did he almost immediately clammed up. Shiro had reported the behavior to Aimee, who he was having at least bi-weekly phone calls with. She had said she would document it, but unless Keith wanted to actually make a complaint there wasn't anything she could do.

And, Shiro knew, Keith wasn't going to complain. Not when, as Aimee had told him during their first conversation, that should this foster family not work then Keith was off to the group home that reportedly he hated. Of course he wouldn't say anything if that was the other option. He'd pointed out the catch-22 to Aimee, who had said her hands were tied; she was Keith's caseworker but it was the agency's call.

Shiro hadn't like that. Not one bit. He'd been making some phone calls on his own and doing research on early entrance exams to the Garrison. It wasn't unheard of and he knew that Matt's sister was likely going to be admitted as soon as she turned fourteen, which was the absolute youngest the Garrison would take.

And just like Katie, Shiro knew that Keith was a prodigy as well. He would get in with flying colors, he knew that. He just needed to make absolutely certain that this option was feasible before he offered up hope that he could not actually give. He would not do that to Keith.

But before any of that he needed to make certain that his suspicions were correct. And that meant seeing the man who called himself Keith's foster father and what kind of man he was.

Shiro's gaze was fixed firmly on not just the car but the young teen that it had pulled up in front of. And he did not like what he saw. Not one bit.

A few minutes ago when they had all trooped in, muddy and exhausted but beaming with happiness from their games, Keith's smile had shone as bright as any other. Now though, his shoulders were hunched inside his jacket, hands tucked up under his arms and reminding Shiro far, far too much of the hesitant boy pressed up against the gym wall from their first meeting.

He could physically see as the light shuttered in Keith's eyes as the car came to a complete stop and the way his hand hesitated for the briefest second on the door handle. He pulled it open and even from here, a couple yards away, Shiro heard the harsh bark of "Get in! What are you waiting for?" and Keith hurried to obey.

Shiro stepped out from under the building's awning to catch a glimpse of the man, Mark, Aimee had told him was the current foster father's name. He was a larger man. Easily large enough, Shiro glowered, to have left those fingerprints embedded on Keith's arm. He had a dangerous scowl to his face, a look that spoke of consequences should anyone cross him, and his mouth was moving, clearly yelling.

And, Shiro thought, spotting Keith's hunkered form in the backseat and wincing at the words being thrown at him, he had a bad feeling that Keith simply being there was considered crossing the line.

xxx

"I think his foster family is abusing him," Shiro said, breaking the quiet silence of his room. He and Matt were supposed to be studying for their upcoming winter finals and while Matt had been steadily muttering to himself Shiro hadn't been able to concentrate on his text books.

All he could see were the flinches, the fear, the hunched shoulders and the finger-shaped bruises on thin arms. How could the ten parts of the Nevarra Engine System and their functions possibly compare to that?

Matt jerked his head out of his book, eyes glazed. "What?"

"I think Keith is being abused," Shiro repeated, grateful when Matt closed his coding book with a solid thump and sat up from his spot on the floor.

He'd shared with Matt his observations and Keith's flimsy excuses of fights at school. Matt had hacked into the school's suspension and detention list and Keith hadn't come up on any list in the past few weeks, ever since he was enrolled in the Big Brother program, which meant that Keith's injuries weren't from schoolyard brawls.

And if they weren't from those then they were either from bullying at school that Keith was afraid to report or they were from home.

Shiro already knew where his chips were falling.

"Do we go to the police?" Matt asked. "You're technically a mandated reporter with the Big Brother program. They'd have to listen."

"And they'd do what, throw him back to the group home?" Shiro growled. "Where he'd be _safe?_ He's not safe there, Matt. I know it. He's putting up with whatever this is to avoid going back there."

"Aimee?" Matt asked. "Surely she could do something if you had proof. You do have proof, right?"

"Keith is proof."

"Only if he'll say something," Matt pointed out. "And you told me he barely mentions his foster family and claims any injury is from school kids."

"This is ridiculous," Shiro scowled. "He won't say anything because he thinks the only outcome is a worse one with that group home. But what if it wasn't? What if I could get him into the Garrison early and he had a different option?"

"I talked to my dad about that," Matt said and there was a small smile to his face. "He said, and I quote, 'If Takashi thinks this boy possesses such a talent than I shall vouch for him.'"

"Dr. Holt said that?" Shiro asked, feeling faint.

"Yup," Matt grinned. "And he's already set up a meeting with Iverson and Techton for Wednesday. You're required to go too, of course."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Shiro asked, matching Matt's grin.

"I was going to share the good news at dinner after we finished studying for the day, but obviously you need to know this sort of now, if you are going for this angle."

"You bet I am. Kami-sama, Matt, thank you! You… You…"

Matt waved it away. "I want to help Keith as much as you do, Shiro. I feel like I almost know the kid the way you go on about him."

Shiro flushed. "I do not."

"Shiro," Matt deadpanned. "You will turn almost any conversation into something about Keith. Me: Oh, look at this salad the cafeteria put out, isn't that a treat. You: Keith would have to pick out all the cucumbers. He hates them."

"I'm not that bad," Shiro moaned, covering his face.

Matt gave him a pointed look. "This morning when Lori said you needed to get your hair trimmed your response was that you wondered when Keith had last had a cut and you were debating hairstyles for him."

"You go on and on about Katie," Shiro tried to defend.

"That's my point, man," Matt said. "Katie's my sister. Keith is like your little brother, and I don't just mean the program name. You're in this deep, Shiro. Don't deny it.

"Okay, okay, fine," Shiro sighed. "It's just… he's a great kid, Matt." His voice lowered. "He deserves so much better. I just… I just want to help him."

"And you are," Matt gave him a soft smile. "Even if this doesn't work, you've really made a difference in his life, Shiro. You should be proud."

"It's going to work," and the note of determination shone strong in Shiro's voice. "I won't have it any other way."

xxx

Shiro sat alone on the front step of the community center, anxiously glancing at his phone every few seconds. It was nearing eight fifteen and Keith hadn't arrived yet. It was completely unlike him. And Shiro hated the sick feeling of worry that was taking root in his stomach. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

He'd called Aimee after his talk with Matt, telling her about his suspicions of abuse and said he wanted to make a formal complaint. Aimee had, much to his relief, seemed wholly supportive of the idea and said she would process it immediately. However, the turnaround time was likely a few weeks because the system was so backed up with other reports.

Shiro had told her that was unacceptable and he hated raising his voice to her, but he was through with the red tape and the hoop jumping. No more. No more making Keith a number in the system, no more looking at only one part of a file and assuming the worst of a little kid.

Aimee had only been able to say she would mark it urgent and try to get it up the line as quickly as possible. Shiro had hung up on her, seething. He hadn't spoken to her since.

The meeting with the school officials had gone much better, bolstered by Shiro's own accounts of Keith's skill (and with his own standing in the program his word was valued highly) and the legally obtained test records the Garrison had requested that showed Keith to have shown well enough in all categories, especially at his current age.

There would need to be a formal interview and testing process, which would not be scheduled until late January, but in the interim Keith would be given permission to remain in campus housing provided he had an older student willing to allow him in their quarters. Shiro had assured them that would not be a problem and was already planning on how to re-arrange his room. He wasn't quite adopting the kid, and at twenty-one he was nowhere near ready for anything of that commitment level, but he could certainly house him for a few weeks and prepare him for the Garrison's strict military-like regimen and order.

All of this would need to be approved by the state, which was Keith's technical guardian until he turned eighteen, and Shiro knew when that time came Aimee would help. He would accept nothing less and he had a feeling that Aimee would be on board with this outcome. Besides, he was certain that once his complaint made it up the ladder (however long that was) the agency would have no choice but to take some sort of action.

Shiro had hoped to talk to Keith about it today, introduce the idea of attending the Galaxy Garrison and see if maybe, maybe that would be enough to push Keith into talking about the abuse and really lighting a fire under the social services agency.

But Keith was not here.

And when his phone rang with the agency's main line Shiro thought he might throw up.

"Hello?" he answered, pressing a hand to try and calm his stomach.

"Shiro, it's Aimee."

Shiro wasn't sure if he should apologize for his behavior last time they talked – after he'd calmed down he'd felt terrible for yelling at her when he knew she was doing her best – but he didn't get the chance.

"Keith's foster family called the emergency line this morning," Aimee said and Shiro felt like he'd been sucker-punched. "They're requesting his removal and the agency is sending someone this afternoon. He's… he's going back to the group home."

"No," Shiro gasped, breath hard to come by. "What… what happened?" he asked, voice growing harder. "What happened?"

"There was an incident with the family's son, Garrett," Aimee said and Shiro could hear her shuffling papers. "He ended up in the hospital, Shiro. Keith did it."

"What?" the word was barely a breath of air.

"Broken nose, concussion and multiple bruises on the face and chest," Aimee said, sounding as though she was reciting from a script. "I have the hospital records with me."

"Keith… Keith wouldn't…" Shiro clutched the phone tighter, hunching over on the concrete step. There was no way Keith would do that. Despite the file Shiro had never seen the boy make even the smallest aggression. Flight seemed to be his response, not fight.

"I don't think we're getting the full story," Aimee continued and Shiro let out a shaky breath. "Something is not right, Shiro. It doesn't match up with your observations or this school district's weekly report. Keith is not an aggressor."

"What can I do?"

"The Galaxy Garrison's paperwork came in yesterday's mail," Aimee said in answer. "I can fill it out on Keith's behalf as his case worker. He… he could go to the Garrison. With you. The Garrison gave their approval for housing through early February conditional on testing scores, at which point should Keith enroll I can sign off on all additional forms. He would still be a ward of the state but the Galaxy Garrison would be acting as his guardian with you as an emergency contact."

"Do it," Shiro said, standing up.

"I'll need your signature and a senior member of the Garrison's," Aimee said. "And we will need to get it processed before the agency's emergency worker picks Keith up or their's will take precedence due to the clause stipulation." She laughed then, the sound slightly dark. "I don't think I'm legally even supposed to tell you all of this. Protocol would state I needed to wait until the next business day to contact the Garrison. But I think in this case protocol can take a hike."

"I'll contact Dr. Holt," Shiro said, hope rising, "he can sign off for the Garrison. I'll… I'll be right over to sign the rest—"

"Wait," Aimee interrupted. "Keith needs to be here too. If this is going to work I need proof that the allegations the family is making are not entirely true. I need Keith's side of the story otherwise he will get charged solely responsible with this Shiro and it will go down as battery charges. I need…" she swallowed thickly. "I need your suspicions to be right, Shiro. I don't want them to be, God I don't want them to be, but if we can show abuse and probable cause for self defense we can make this work. Keith will still likely get simple battery charges of some degree, but when paired with child abuse we both know who the courts will side with."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Get Keith. I'm sending you the address. Tell them you're from the agency and bring him straight back to our local headquarters in town. Sending that address as well."

"Got it," Shiro was already walking towards his bike. "I'll be there soon."

He hung up then and immediately dialed Matt. "Come on, come on," he muttered, wishing for the first time in his life he had a car and not a motorcycle as he could not multi-task a phone call with the bike.

The phone picked up with a click. "Shiro," Matt whined. "Do you know what time—"

"I need your dad," Shiro interrupted. "It's Keith. He's in trouble."

Matt sounded much more awake. "What happened?"

"His foster family is returning him. Some fight with their kid. We can get Keith to the Garrison but our paperwork needs to be filed before the agency's and—"

"Stop talking then and let me call him," Matt said. "Where is he going?"

"Texting you the address," Shiro pulled it up from the message Aimee had sent. "It's the local child services agency in town."

"Got it." Matt paused. "Good luck, Shiro. You've got this." The phone hung up with a sharp click and Shiro wasted no more time hopping on his bike and firing up the engine.

It was finally time to do something.

xxx

Shiro pulled up in front of a well-kept if older home, spotting a familiar car in the driveway. He stalked across the lawn, not caring about the sidewalk, and rang the doorbell sharply. He'd been rehearsing a speech the entire way over, trying to make himself sound older and wiser than his buzzed hair and leather jacket showed him to be.

The door opened to reveal Mark, the man Shiro had seen in the driver's seat last week. He could feel the judgmental stare and while he didn't give a damn what this man thought about him Shiro tried to make himself stand a little taller.

"Can I help you?" Mark eventually asked.

"I'm with the agency," Shiro said, voice more even than he had expected. "I'm here to pick up Keith."

The man scowled. "About time. Come in," and Shiro stepped into the foyer, staircase immediately to his right with a large landing halfway up. "Damn kid," Mark muttered. "I'll be billing your agency the hospital bills for my son."

"I'm sure the agency will be in further contact with you about that," Shiro said. "I'm just here to retrieve Keith now."

Mark was about to say something when there was a breathless, "Shiro?" from the staircase and Shiro glanced over to the landing.

His eyes widened in horror as he took in Keith, clutching a single duffel bag to him as though it might shield him. The entirety of his left cheek was a purple mass and he was holding himself as if it hurt to stand to his full height. He looked so, so scared, Shiro thought, and so young.

"See?" Mark snarled, gesturing at Keith, who shrank back at the action and Shiro felt his blood boil at the flinch. "Little shit picked a fight with my boy yesterday and got what was coming to him." He turned to Shiro. "Get him out of my house."

Shiro found it hard to take his gaze from Keith, who was trembling on the landing, but he did, mustering up all the venom he could and he found it was quite a lot. "With all due respect, sir, I think your son got exactly what was coming to him."

He didn't care that it wasn't proper. Aimee could tell him off later for misrepresenting the agency. He didn't care anymore. All he cared about was Keith.

"What did you—" Mark tried to say and Shiro cut him off with vindictive glee.

""We'll be leaving now. An agency member will be in contact with you regarding _compensation,_ " he spat it out as though poison, "for your _troubles."_

He forced his voice to something softer as he made eye contact with Keith again. "Come on, buddy. Time for us to go."

Keith took a tentative step, wincing at the movement and it was taking all Shiro had not to run over there and help him down. As it was he could see Keith's gaze moving past him to his foster father and Shiro stepped in between, blocking the man from view. He didn't want Keith seeing that monster ever again.

He offered up the best smile he could, trying to soothe Keith but the boy only looked at him with those wide, purple eyes as if he wasn't certain he was dreaming.

"Shiro?" he whispered once they had left and Shiro had closed the door a little firmer than necessary behind him. "H-how?"

"Not here," Shiro said, going to place a hand on Keith's shoulder in comfort, but retracing it immediately as Keith winced. Shiro hated that he knew why. He tried to paste on a smile so as not to scare the boy any more while personally all he wanted to do was turn around, open the door and punch the man who dared call himself a father in the face. But Keith didn't need that right now. "Come on, I'm taking you to the agency."

"The agency?" Keith repeated and he stopped his slow walk.

Shiro cursed his choice of words, but he could feel eyes on them and he wanted Keith out of their sights as quickly as he could. "Just for a little bit," Shiro said, keeping it simple in case they were eavesdropping somehow. "Just need to pick up a few things."

And after a long moment Keith nodded and made his way to the motorcycle. Shiro took his duffel from him – was this really all the boy had to call his own? – and secured it to the bike while Keith pulled on a helmet. He kept wincing and was trying not to move his arms much above his head.

Shiro's scowl darkened under the coverage of his own helmet.

It took Keith more effort than it should have to get into position and when his hands clenched in Shiro's jacket and he pressed his trembling body flush against Shiro's back, Shiro felt that anger burn again. Keith was more than scared. He was terrified and in pain and Shiro wished there was more he could do in that moment, but right now time was of the essence and he just wanted to get Keith away from here.

"Hang on tight," he said instead and took off with a loud roar that he dearly hoped woke everyone on the block.

He drove well past the speed limit, swerving around the very few cars out early on a Saturday morning, and yet it still took nearly half an hour to get to the agency. He felt Keith's grip flagging the longer they drove and the boy's helmet was pressing uncomfortably into his shoulder.

When they finally reached the building Keith had practically fallen off the bike and Shiro had barely had time to guide him to sit on the curb before he could fall over.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, placing his hand gently on the trembling back. "You're all right now."

"Am I… am I going to the h-home?" Keith whimpered and Shiro felt his heart break. Is that what Keith had thought this entire drive over? That Shiro was picking him only to abandon him again? That he would bring him somewhere even _worse_ than the situation he had just removed him from?

"No, no," Shiro soothed, rubbing circles now and not missing how Keith was leaning into the touch. "No, you're not going back there." He was never going back there. Over Shiro's dead body.

"But I messed up," Keith whispered. "They told me if... if this family didn't w-work that I…"

"Keith," Shiro interrupted, "It is not your fault this foster family did not work out. They… they were not a good fit for you, or really I think for anyone. It's not your fault, all right?" Keith sniffled and rested his head against Shiro's shoulder, his own still shaking.

"I can see how hard you've been trying, but Keith, you shouldn't have to stay in that kind of toxic environment," Shiro continued. "Not when it's hurting you." He wanted to ask why Keith hadn't told him, why he hadn't said something before.

But he knew. He'd made the observation on their very first meeting. Keith was used to fighting his own battles and being on his own. He was used to adults letting him down and not taking care of him the way they should.

And as much as he had told Shiro he trusted him, this wasn't something that this proud, proud boy would divulge so readily. Keith did not want to appear weak, hiding his hurts, his feelings and his tears as best as he could. He didn't want pity and Shiro didn't want to give him that.

What he did want to give him was love and family and hope. And he could do that, now. He could make this better.

"Where are you hurt?" Shiro gently asked after a moment as the trembling began to come to a close. His shoulders, Shiro guessed, and clearly his face. Possibly his ribs if the way he was hunched over was any indication.

"I'm fine," Keith mumbled, keeping his eyes downcast.

"Keith," Shiro took his other hand and gently left Keith's chin up, revealing tear-lined eyes and a streaked face. His thumb brushed against one such tear that had made its way past the ugly purple mark on his cheek. "You are not fine," he said "Do you need a hospital?" Because Shiro thought he might and he would call for one right now if Keith said the world.

But Keith shook his head. "N-no."

Shiro gave a tired sigh and nodded. "Let's get inside and talk with Aimee then." He looked again at the purple mark on Keith's face. "And get you some ice."

Aimee was ready and waiting when they entered. She wasn't what he had been picturing; she was a tiny slip of a thing with barely tamed brown curls but her eyes were sharp and her mouth was a thin line of anger that he could tell was not directed at either of them. She'd instructed them over to the waiting room chairs and gone to get ice and the aforementioned paperwork.

Shiro took a moment to check his phone, noting two missed calls from Matt and then finally a text saying that his dad was en route and would be there about ten. Shiro owed both Matt and Dr. Holt big time when this was all said and done.

Keith was near huddled in his chair, keeping his eyes to the floor as though somehow still expecting the worse.

"Aimee called me this morning," Shiro explained. "She said your foster family had called to… to return you." He was unable to keep the anger from his tone and Keith had looked up at it. Shiro was relieved to see though that there was no fear in those large purple eyes at it, but surprised more than anything. As though no one had ever gotten angry on his behalf.

"I've been giving her reports each week," Shiro continued, trying to bring his voice back to level. "And Keith," he swallowed. "I've had nothing to say but good things about you. You're smart. And talented. And fun and hopeful and sweet and kind you have such big dreams. You're nothing like your profile said you were."

Keith's cheeks were steadily growing pink with each word and he ducked his head down again. Shiro smiled gently and placed a hand on Keith's shoulder, relishing as Keith leaned into it like a cat.

"Mark," and Shiro paused on the name darkly, "said there had been an incident with his son and you were the aggressor. That didn't fit with what I observed and Aimee didn't think so either."

Keith hunched over. "But I was," he whispered. "I hit him first."

"Out of the blue?" Shiro countered. "Or did he provoke you?"

Keith seemed to be trying to make himself smaller. "He… he said…" his shoulders were trembling again and Shiro rubbed his thumb against the jacket's ribbing.

"You aren't someone looking for a fight, Keith," he said gently. Just like he'd thought. Keith hadn't been the aggressor in this incident or likely any other incident. Whatever the son, Garrett, had said had been enough to provoke Keith into trying to fight back and stand up for himself. Perhaps not the best course in this case, but Shiro couldn't fault him. You either stood up to bullies or you got knocked around and Keith had finally had enough. Shiro was proud.

That said… "Hitting someone is not the answer, but I understand." Keith's body went still "And I daresay Garrett and his friends haven't exactly held back their own fists before either," Shiro added, hating when Keith winced and confirmed that statement.

Aimee came back then, a few disposable ice packs in hand and a huge case file. Shiro resisted the urge to whistle at it. _That_ was Keith's file? He and Matt had barely scratched the surface.

"Here we are," Aimee said, handing the ice packs to Shiro who accepted them with a quiet 'thank you.' She seemed just as aware that right now Shiro was the one Keith trusted and. "Before we apply those though, Keith, I'd like to get some pictures."

She met Shiro's eyes over Keith's still bowed head and he nodded. Yes. Time to get both sides of this story.

Time to light a fire.

"Pictures?" Keith repeated, sounding confused.

"For your case file," Aimee said. "Proof of your injuries. If you could remove your shirt for me, please?" Keith was trembling again and Aimee lowered her voice even more. "There's no need to hide anything here, sweetie. We're here to help."

Keith turned his gaze to Shiro then, looking for answers. Shiro nodded. "As long as you're comfortable with it. Otherwise we'll just take a picture of this," and he brought his hand up to gently rest on Keith's cheek where the bruise shone like a neon beacon.

That affirmation seemed to be what Keith was looking for as he mumbled out, "it's fine," and proceeded to get out of his jacket. Shiro was eyeing him like a hawk, looking for what was causing the jerky movements to the otherwise normally very graceful boy.

And when the tee shirt was pulled up and over, revealing a bare chest mottled with bruises Shiro knew why. He sucked in a harsh breath, hating how it made Keith flinch, and Aimee cursed behind him.

"Can I feel your ribs?" Shiro asked, his own voice trembling. "I want to make sure nothing is broken." He had basic field medic training as part of being a fighter pilot and while he was no one that you'd actually want in a real emergency he could do in a pinch. He could at least make sure nothing was broken or endangering a lung.

Keith gave a small nod, still not meeting Shiro's gaze, and as carefully as he could Shiro poked about the bruised flesh. "Nothing broken," he breathed after a moment, relieved. But just because there were no broken bones didn't mean something still wasn't broken.

His eyes found where his hold earlier had hurt Keith, new fingerprints embedded in the thin shoulders that matched the nearly faded yellow ones on his arm. A few more bruises, a mixture of old and new, were splattered like paint across Keith's stomach and back.

Someone had done this. To a _child._

He had the incredible urge to punch something. Namely a certain foster father's face.

Aimee snapped what seemed like a small gallery and gently asked Keith what each mark was from. Keith had responded in barely whispers. His foster father was drunk. He hadn't finished Garrett's homework on time. His foster mother had caught him in the kitchen again. He'd forgotten to lock the mudroom door.

It was more than just the visible injuries. He'd been denied food, Amy had pulled from him, for minor transgressions. Other than the Big Brother program the family hadn't taken Keith with them on any errands or trips and he had been pretty much left to his own devices. They didn't allow him to be downstairs when the family was together, forced him to keep to mainly just his room and the upstairs hall. They had as much emotionally as physically abused this sweet boy.

So when Aimee had tried to apologize and give a line about how if they'd known about the abuse from Keith they could have done something Shiro had had enough.

"But you didn't know," Shiro all but snarled. "And he couldn't tell you because your agency threatened him with that ultimatum." And when he'd tried he'd gotten red tape and procedure and all kinds of crap because the agency did not want to have to deal with it.

And Aimee had looked so much older than her youth suggested then. "I know, I know," she sighed. "It's a screwed up system, I know that. I'm trying to make it better, but there are so, so many…"

And Shiro felt for her. He did. And he knew she had gone above and beyond what her job required for Keith. She'd probably crossed a few lines of tape herself in all that she had told Shiro, but it still hadn't been enough.

But maybe, he realized, it had. She had connected him with Keith after all. She had given him more background than what he should have had; she had made him aware of the stipulation on Keith's residency. Shiro's eyes widened. She had been looking out for Keith. She had done all that she could while still operating within the broken system so that people like her, people who cared, could remain a part of it. So they could connect more people like Shiro to kids the system had failed.

It looked like he owed her another apology.

He tuned back into Aimee talking to Keith to hear her mentioning an alternate plan and Keith's breath catching with something resembling hope.

"I've talked to the Galaxy Garrison," Shiro said cutting in and shifting off his chair to crouch in front of Keith, taking the small hands in his own. "I've told them about your high scores – we got your school records from the past few years, which are impressive considering how much you've missed in standard curriculum," he added, " and I may have mentioned that your driving skills are off the charts." That tugged up a small smile to Keith's face.

"You'll still need to pass the entrance exam and flight simulator – and I'll help, we have a few weeks – but when you do, and I know you will, Keith, you'll be accepted into the Garrison." Minus all of the paperwork and interviews and background work but Shiro was going to make it work. Dr. Holt was on his side and even Iverson had seemed impressed.

"I know you're a little young, but with your talents you'll fit right in with the current first years and we have had a few young geniuses in our programming and tech departments before, so it's nothing the Garrison hasn't dealt with before." Shiro was aware he was near rambling now, but he couldn't stop. Keith's eyes were getting brighter and brighter and there was a new light to them. "It's a year-round lodging program and you'll live on campus and go to school fulltime. I'll be graduating in the spring, but I'll be on campus too in the officers' headquarters and—"

Shiro was cut off and Keith gasped out a, "Yes. Y-yes." His eyes were welling with tears and Shiro could feel a sting to his own. "Shiro, you…"

And Shiro did not hesitate any second longer. He reached forward and pulled Keith into the tightest hug he could, mindful of the injuries, resting his chin atop the dark locks and feeling tears dripping down his cheeks.

He'd wanted to give the kid a hug the moment he had started crying on the zoo's park bench, but he'd seen the way Keith both pulled away and seemed to relish that contact all at once. He hadn't wanted to spook him away and had settled for lighter touches. He realized now he should have just hugged him that first moment. He was just going to have to make up for it, he decided, tightening his embrace.

"S-Shiro," Keith sobbed, and his arms had wrapped about Shiro as best he could, hands clenched tightly in Shiro's jacket.

"I've got you," Shiro choked out, knowing that he was never going to let him go. "It's going to be all right now."

And Shiro truly believed that with all his heart.

xxx

 **Author's Notes:**

Is anyone actually surprised I ended up writing Shiro's side of things? :p As soon as I published _Burning Bright_ I sort of felt the urge to write the other half and I kept telling myself no, you don't have the time. Well, a few hours of dedicated writing later and here we are. (Why is it longer than the original? Haha, why can Icy not write anything short at all is the better questions).

I also headcannon Shiro being raised by his grandparents and very, very lightly touched on that here. And for the little bit of Japanese thrown in here for Shiro's culture, obaasan is grandmother and Kami-sama is God.

Please do drop a comment if you enjoyed! Thank you!


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